


Once upon a time

by OhgodamIuncreative



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 16:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17450690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhgodamIuncreative/pseuds/OhgodamIuncreative
Summary: The young girl Romy is held capture by the Avengers when a dangerous man with a silver sleeve appeares





	Once upon a time

 

It happened on a friday. I just finished eating lunch. Rice and fish. The frying pan still next to the sink, eager for me to do the wash-up (not that I would do that anywhere within the next three hours).

  
Eager for a distraction I went into the living room. I skimmed over the titles of my favourite books before I settled down on the blue back of one of my favourites. Taking it into my hand I walked over to the corner of the room. There was an alcove-like niche, full with a mattress in the form of a quarter circle. It was the perfect place to read and forget about the world and the fact that I was trapped.

  
Trapped in an appartment that was neither small nor luxurious. Trapped in an appartment that I could only leave three times a week to go into another enclosed room full of sport equipment, wich, I guess, was suppodsed to even out my limited moving space.  
Trapped by the very people that somehow managed to erase my entire family except me from the face of the earth. That tried to kill me. Trapped by the people the world celebrates as heroes.

  
Trapped by the Avengers.

I opened my book and read the familiar letters, quickly diving into stories I already knew.  
A few chapters in I suddenly heard a loud thud. Instantly alarmed I jumped up, crossed the half of the living room with the books and took a halt at the doorframe, from where I could see across the hallway- and froze, mucles tensing up, and took in the scene through the glass front door.

  
Oh I am so dead.

  
There was a tall man in the hallway in front of my appartment. he was broad and his entire being reeked of aggression. His dark hair went down to his shoulders and he wore completely black clothing, leather probably. I couldn't make out most of his face due to the black muzzle that covered everything from his nose down, but even from my spot, more than eight meters away, I could see the piercing blue of his eyes.

  
For a small moment we just looked at each other, his dead stare send shivers down my back. Not the good kind, the 'oh crap- there's absolutely nothing I can do to survive this madness'- kind. Despite from the fact that he was a grown adult and i was a child, he also was fit and had a scaring amount of dangerous stuff on his body. He moved his left arm and now I realized it was covered in, or made of something completely silver. It had a big red star on his upper arm and consusted of many little plates that seemed to constantly shift with his movements.

  
My thoughts raced. Red stars. What does a red star mean? Turkey - no, that was a white star on a red ground.  
North korea, maybe? Something inside me said no. He didn't look very north korean, or any koream at all. Then an old memory from a history essay popped up- the red army. Didn't they use red stars in the second world war?

  
My thoughts were interrupted by another loud thud. The man had tried to kick the door open. It didn't work.

  
Of course it didn't work. It hadn't the past three years that I was here and tried to get out, so it made no sense that he even bothered to try.  
The man looked up again and determination flooded his eyes. it impressed me, that although I could barely make out his features, I was able to distinguish between his moods so easily. He then swung his arm back and let it crash into the glass. Little cracks appeared.

  
Oh, nonono. There shouldn't be cracks.

  
I tried to escape this hell a total of 107 times. I tried cutting the glass, the lock the frame, hell, even the wood around the frame. I threw about every heavy objekt I could find against the transparent little shit. In a rush of blind anger i even flung my own body at the door and it never did as much as shudder.

  
But now, after two kicks and a punch of that weird arm there were cracks. By now my legs were trembling with fear, but I couldn't move a single muscle.  
He took another swing at the door and the cracks deepened making their way across the surface. If he could crack that glass, he can break it, what means he can get inside. And judging by his facial expression (If you could call it that) he wasn’t in a very happy mood.

Which means that I am not safe,

  
I looked around, well knowing that there would that there won’t be any possible exits. This whole apartment was below earth, I didn’t know how low. There were no windows and right know his body was effectively blocking the only way out of here.  
He hit the door once more and I could finally move again. I ran across the hallway into my study. Frantically I searched the desk for something useful. Paper- useless, Pens- useless. I tossed my chair to the side and stomped on its legs until one came off. With shaking fingers I slid it in the door handle so it wouldn’t open.

  
Now I heard glass shatter and shrieked while I crouched and scrambled myself under the desk. This was a very small room. Three meters times three meters. Nine square meters. Two desks and a filing cabinet. Not much space to hide. I pulled the broken chair towards me, so it would hide me a little better.  
With loud stomps the man entered my personal prison. I tried to calm myself down, to breathe silently, but that didn’t help. The doorhandle to my study moved a little. Then stopped.

  
I waited a second then somebody forcefully kicked the door in, the chairleg broke in half like a small twig. The corner couldn’t be hiding very well but I still pushed myself into it the best I could.

  
Suddenly someone, the man, grabbed my ankle and yanked me out of my hiding space. My shriek was blatantly ignored and when I tried to wiggle myself free, to kick him of any sorts he only tightend his grip.

  
He dragged me across the hallway into the kitchen and pulled me up so I would half lie on the coking isle in my kitchen and half dangling of of it, my head faced the sink. Before I could even think of a why he put his silver hand around my neck and started squeezing my throat. The metal was cold against my skin as I tried to pry his fingers away from my throat. I looked up, into his eyes, searching for mercy of some sorts, but I could not find a single emotion in his scary eyes, only determination.  
He will kill me on the spot. Dark spots started to form in my view. I must be running out of oxygen, then. With my right hand at my throat my left one kind of flailed around until it hit something metal. The fruit bowl with the three apples that I didn’t want anymore but failed to throw away. I lunged after it and threw it into my attackers face. That caught him off guard and his grip loosened a little. Quickly, seeing my chance I collected all my remaining strength and kicked him, where it hurt the most. He grunted and sank to the floor. I sat up and looked around for something, anything.

  
The frying pan!

  
Still seeing stars I turned around to meet the back of the man. I noticed the gun between his shoulderblades before I smacked the pan over his head. The Impact made a satisfying `clonk`-noise that made me do it again on the spot. My lungs demanded for air, but my throat failed to deliver after being chocked for so long.  
I got to my feet and tried to run for the door, but the man grabbed my ankle again, which send me down to the floor, face first. Something in my ankle made a weird sound. I didn’t think it was broken or dislocated or anything, it just hurt like hell. I turned myself around while still lying on the floor and made the pan collide with his face in what must have been a painful matter since I could both hear the `crack` of his nose and his scream. He cursed in language I couldn’t understand, it sounded like something eastern European. Maybe I was right with th Red Army before.

  
I gripped the pan tighter, this time determined to knock him unconncious. He was only a little dizzy but that was enough for me to scramble to my feet and make it for the door. A wave of pain shot through my leg um to my arm, which led to me hobbling weirdly.

  
I made it to the door which was now in shreds and continued down the hallway. There was only one elevator and to my knowledge it only went up. Pressing about every button I could find I saw the man come out of my apartment. He lost his mask, I must have knocked it off him and he looked at wide-eyed. Something was different though.

  
His eyes were no longer cold. I was able to see pain and confusion. He looked at me like he was trying to find something in me, an answer of some sorts.  
His eyes roamed over my body, stopping at the purple marks his fingers left when he chocked me and then at my right foot which I still didn’t dare to put weight on. He then looked at his metal arm and said in English: ”Did I do this?”.

  
But I was spared from answer because the elevator doors finally closed and sent me upwards. I leaned my head against the glass wall trying to fight the darkness back into the back of my brain. Not just yet, I told myself, don’t pass out on me.

  
The doors shifted open and I stumbled in a white, long and clean hallway. I cried for help, but my voice was hoarse. It seemed to have been enough, because a white door opened and a woman with light red hair came out and rushed to my side. Then everything went black.

  
That happened three years and ten months ago.

  
I never found out who this guy was and I prayed every night that he wouldn’t find me again.

  
And yet, here he was, right on my doorstep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any comment or review is the energy I feed of


End file.
